A bloodied book lies open
On stained sheets
A laptop locked from prying eyes
A still-warm seat
The dank smell of cigarettes
Hangs on the curtains
A tumbler of gin spices the nose
A rusty brown-edged mirror
Reflects the world inside
No moving pictures
Memories remain quiet here
A silent overwhelming
A sharpened pencil
Two elastic bands and a comb
Knocked to the floor
A story happened here
That’s happening no more
If you yearn for power, quickly lay honesty aside, and train yourself in the art of concealing your intentions.
Robert Greene, Daily Laws List